


Pick a place to rest your head

by bluesweatshirt



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, How and why did I write an angsty fic about a Tik Tok challenge?, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesweatshirt/pseuds/bluesweatshirt
Summary: “Bro, imagine cuddling with your parents like that,” Peter laughed. Ned was at least a foot taller than his mom now, and his dad was a nice guy, but he definitely wasn’t the snuggly type.“It’s kind of sad, if you think about it,” Ned mused. “Remember that one Tumblr post about how your parents put you down one day and never picked you back up again?”***Or, the one where Peter loses a bet with Ned and has to cuddle May and Tony in the aftermath of the blip.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 293





	Pick a place to rest your head

**Author's Note:**

> Uh...I'm still not sure how this fic happened? I saw a Tik Tok compilation like this and i couldn't get this idea out of my head. This feels like a bizarre Tumblr prompt that I gave myself. So I wrote it over the past 24 hours and...here we are ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> The title comes from the song "Hold My Girl" by George Ezra, which gives me major "parents dealing with the snap" feelings. 
> 
> In this fic, May didn't snap, so she was alive while Peter was gone. 
> 
> Anyway, yeah. I know this kind of story has already been done a bunch of times, but it was still fun to write!

_***_

_When you come back you will not be you. And I may not be I._

_-E.M. Forster_

***

Peter really didn’t want to think about being dead. 

He had taken to filling every waking moment with some task or activity. He patrolled every single day after school, right up to his 11 PM curfew. He doubled down on his homework and decathlon practice, to the point where even MJ seemed impressed. 

He sat through hilariously bad Hallmark movies with May and built Legos with Ned almost every weekend so that he didn’t have to lay on his bed alone and think about what it had felt like to slowly disintegrate into dust. 

He knew that he wasn’t handling things very well, but in the grand scheme of it all, he thought he was doing a pretty good job. The world had been thrown into chaos with the return of billions of people. For the most part, it was a happy chaos, but everyone had been through a lot. 

Keeping on top of his homework was hardly the worst coping mechanism out there.

Still, there was one thing he wasn’t proud of. 

He was avoiding Tony. 

***

It wasn’t that he was mad at Tony or that Tony had done anything wrong. 

It was just that Tony was _different_ now, and Peter didn’t know what to make of it. 

For one, the man had a daughter and he lived two hours away in a cabin. With an alpaca, of all animals. 

For two, Tony had apparently helped the Avengers travel back in time just so that he could bring Peter back. 

Everyone seemed to want to tell Peter about how amazing that was, but Peter didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to imagine how scared May must have felt. He didn’t want to remember the fact that Tony had lost an arm and been in a coma for two weeks, all so that he could save Peter. 

Tony texted him regularly now, which was another New Thing. If Peter looked back at their texting history, it was mostly a one-sided conversation from Peter’s end. Now, the opposite was true. They were mundane messages, but Tony sent them every day without fail. 

_TS: Hey_ _Underoos, how’s the Iron Spider suit? You should come to the lake house this weekend so we can make some upgrades._

 _TS: Morgan lost her first tooth! She wanted me to show you._ (Accompanied by a photograph of Morgan grinning adorably, a noticeable gap in her front teeth.)

_TS: How’s your day, kiddo?_

Peter didn’t want to be rude, so he politely responded to each message, but...it was hard. 

He kept making excuses for why he couldn’t come visit, which he knew he couldn’t get away with forever. 

And sure enough, about two months after the final battle with Thanos, Tony texted him.

_TS: Hey, kid, I know you’re busy as hell, but you’re coming to visit this weekend. I already cleared it with May. Happy will pick you up Friday morning._

Peter groaned. This was all he had wanted for years—for his idol to let him into his life and care about him as Peter Parker, not just Spider-Man. 

And now it was finally happening, and all he felt was anxiety and dread. What was _wrong_ with him?

***

To distract himself from his upcoming visit to the lake house, he turned to the refuge of all Gen Z kids: YouTube. 

Vine had died shortly before the snap, but it hadn’t taken long for Peter and Ned to get into Tik Tok when they returned. They sent each other compilations and watched them together when they hung out. 

One afternoon, a few days before Peter was scheduled to leave for the lake house, he and Ned sat on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by empty chip bags and Gatorade bottles. 

“Let’s watch that one,” Peter suggested, pointing over Ned’s shoulder. 

It was a Tik Tok compilation of teenagers climbing onto their parents’ laps like they were still little kids. The parents’ reactions were pretty funny—some of them eagerly embraced their children, while others got annoyed and pushed them away. 

“Bro, imagine cuddling with your parents like that,” Peter laughed. Ned was at least a foot taller than his mom now, and his dad was a nice guy, but he definitely wasn’t the snuggly type. 

“It’s kind of sad, if you think about it,” Ned mused. “Remember that one Tumblr post about how your parents put you down one day and never picked you back up again?”

“Yeah,” Peter said. He didn’t really like to think about that post—the last time his parents had picked him up had been to say goodbye before they left to go to the airport for their second honeymoon trip. And, well...their plane had crashed, and sure enough, they’d never picked him up again. 

He desperately needed something to distract him from these kind of thoughts. 

“Hey, Ned,” he grinned. “I’ve got an idea! Let’s make a bet. We’ll have some kind of contest, and if I win, you have to try this challenge out on your parents and film it.”

Ned pondered this for a moment. “Okay,” he agreed. “But if _I_ win, you have to try this challenge out on Tony and May.”

Peter gaped at him. “No way! I could probably get away with climbing onto May’s lap, but Mr. Stark would never let me hear the end of it!”

Ned shrugged. “Well, he’s the closest thing you have to a dad. So you have to do it. Otherwise it’s not really a fair challenge, right? We both have to have something equally cringeworthy on the table to make the stakes high.”

"Mr. Stark isn’t my dad, Ned,” he grumbled. He let out a groan. This was just more stuff he didn’t want to think about. 

“Whatever you say, dude,” Ned said with a grin. 

***

They agreed that it should be a coding challenge, since Peter’s spidey powers gave him an unfair advantage in any kind of physical contest. 

Ned was a better coder than Peter, but Peter had learned a lot from working with Mr. Stark. He stayed up until 3 AM, building a little robot who could connect to the stove. The robot could tell when food was burning, and it could automatically lower the stove temperature. 

This was an important invention for anyone who lived with May Parker. 

It was only a hypothetical product, since he and May didn’t have a smart stove that could be hooked up to the internet. But he was pretty sure the coding was sound, and he felt pretty good about it. 

And best of all, he’d been so immersed in his project that he hadn’t had any time to think about the blip or his upcoming trip to the lake house all night. 

***

Still, he should’ve known better than to be too confident about his coding abilities. 

Ned showed up the next day with a fully functional app that could help people who had been blipped find their loved ones who had moved or changed their phone numbers in the past five years.

“Okay, yeah,” Peter said, shaking his head in amazement. “You definitely won, dude. That’s amazing! If Mr. Stark doesn’t hire you after we graduate from MIT, he’s crazy.”

Ned grinned modestly, but he looked pleased. 

“Yes! Oh my god, I can’t wait to watch you do this challenge!”

“Ugh,” Peter groaned. “I regret everything.”

***

Ned opened his phone’s camera app and started a video, panning to Peter’s face. The two of them were crouching in the hallway of the apartment, heads bent close together as they peeked around the corner at May.

“Dude, this is going to be so embarrassing!” Peter laughed. His stomach swooped with the same breathless, giddy feeling that he’d sometimes gotten as a kid when he was playing hide and seek and he was close to being found in his hiding spot. 

“Go on, do it!” Ned whispered, shoving Peter into the living room. 

Peter stumbled slightly but managed to correct his balance by the time May glanced up from her book. 

_Just keep walking, Peter,_ he told himself. _The more you think about it, the weirder it’s going to be._

“Hey—are you guys hungry?” May asked absentmindedly. “I was thinking about trying a new chili recipe tonight.”

He kept moving closer to the couch, feeling oddly nervous for some reason.

She hadn’t noticed anything strange about his behavior yet, still immersed in her book. 

“You okay, honey?” She murmured, turning a page. 

He had literally died on a distant planet—he was pretty sure he could handle an awkward moment with his aunt. At least May wouldn’t judge him—unlike any other adult in his life.

 _Holy shit, if the Avengers saw me do this I would literally burst into flames on the spot!_ He thought. 

He glanced back at Ned, who gave him a thumb’s up and mouthed _“Do it for the Vine!”_

He took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._

***

May’s reaction was not what he was anticipating. 

In all the videos, the kids had really gone for it—just clambered right onto their parent’s lap in one smooth motion. 

Peter was expecting May to be one of the moms who let out an annoyed shriek and automatically pushed him off her lap. She’d probably laugh at him and tell him that she only had thirty pages left in her book, and she was at a really good part, so could he please leave her alone. 

Or maybe she’d allow him to sit on top of her for a moment, but then she’d complain about how he was crushing her, and he’d better watch out because he was the one who was going to have to pay her nursing home bills one day. 

But in reality, as soon as Peter draped himself over her lap, she melted. 

“Oh, honey—are you okay?” She whispered, using a voice he hadn’t heard since he was thirteen and he had such a bad asthma attack that the school had to call an ambulance. She tossed her book onto the coffee table and wrapped her arms around him like he was still a toddler. 

Peter tried to laugh, but to his surprise, nothing came out. 

May smelled the same as always—the slight antiseptic scent of the hospital mixed with the floral notes of her shampoo. Peter remembered crawling into her and Ben’s bed during thunderstorms, only feeling safe when he could smell May’s hair and hear Ben’s low snores. He remembered sitting next to her on the beach in the summertime, looking up at the stars, his head pillowed on her shoulder. 

And he remembered crumbling into dust on Titan, and thinking that he was never going to see May’s smile or hear her laugh again, and that Mr. Stark was going to have to go home and tell her that she’d lost her only living family member. 

“Yeah, I’m—I'm fine,” he tried to say it with a smile, but his voice wobbled traitorously. 

“I know it’s hard, sweetheart. So much has changed. It’s okay if it takes you a little time to adjust.” She began to rub one of his arms soothingly. 

“I’m sorry, May,” he whispered. “I’m sorry you had to be alone for all those years.” She was the strongest person he’d ever known, to go through everything and still have a warm smile for him.

He could feel May’s breathing hitch slightly. “I missed you, baby,” she said, voice choked. “I missed you every single day. I’m so glad Tony was able to bring you back. I’m so glad, Peter.” She began to brush his hair off his forehead.

Over his shoulder, Peter could see Ned staring at him, baffled. 

Peter raised one hand to his throat to make a subtle “cut the video” gesture. Ned shrugged and lowered his phone, and Peter turned back into May’s embrace, wanting to enjoy the moment just a little longer. 

***

“So that was...different,” Ned remarked delicately once they’d reconvened in Peter’s room. 

“It’s the blip,” Peter said, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s making everyone weird.”

“Look, Peter, you don’t have to...you know, carry out the other half of the deal.”

Peter flopped onto his bed. “No way! A bet is a bet. I’m going to do it.” 

“Are you sure? I mean...what if he reacts the same way May did?”

Peter laughed. “Mr. Stark? Nah. He’s probably just going to call one of his suits to drag me off him and then make fun of me for the next thirty years.”

Ned’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “Are you certain about that, Peter? I mean...he did watch you die. I really don’t think that’s what his reaction will be.”

Peter waved him off. He didn’t really want to think about any of this—about May being alone for five years, or Mr. Stark tearing apart the universe to bring Peter back from the dead. 

“It’s fine, Ned. I’m going to the lake house this weekend. I’ll wait until the moment is right, and then I’ll send you the footage from FRIDAY. I’m sure it’ll be hilarious.”

Ned shrugged. “Okay, dude, if you’re sure.”

***

“Help me, Iron Man!” Peter screamed, falling to the ground, probably getting grass stains on his jeans. “You’re my only hope!”

Morgan pulled off her Iron Man mask and sighed. 

“Petey!” She complained. “I’m Iron _Woman_ , not Iron Man! Get it right!”

Next to him, Tony snorted. “Yeah, Parker. Get it right.”

Peter tried to hide his smile as he turned back to Morgan. “I’m sorry, Morgie,” he said contritely. 

“I’m going to defeat you, Iron Woman!” Tony shouted, waving his arm in the air threateningly and letting out an evil laugh. “And then I’m going to steal Spider-Man’s web shooters and web you both up so you can’t stop me from taking over the world!”

Tony was the unnamed bad guy in this story, but the effect was somewhat diminished by the pink and blue nail polish on his fingers. Peter had also gotten his own Spider-Man colored manicure from Morgan earlier. 

“Guys! Time to come in for dessert and bedtime!” Pepper called from the porch. 

Morgan groaned. “Mommy! We were just getting to the good part!”

“It’s okay, Morguna,” Tony said, effortlessly scooping her up in his one good arm. He sounded like such a dad that Peter almost did a double-take, still unused to Tony's new persona. “Peter will still be here tomorrow. We can keep playing then. Right, Pete?”

“Uh, yeah, totally.” 

It was late spring, so even though it was past 7 o’clock, there was still a hint of sunlight left in the sky. 

“Hey, bud,” Tony said, nudging Peter with his elbow as they walked. “After I get this one to bed, do you want to watch a movie?”

“Oh,” Peter said. His anxiety had faded away over the course of the day. It was hard to feel nervous or out of place with Morgan dragging them around from activity to activity. But the thought of spending time with just him and Tony, having a movie night like they used to sometimes before the snap, even though everything was so different now—

“Sorry, Mr. Stark. I’m kind of tired myself,” he lied. “I think I might have an early night.”

“Sure, Pete, whatever you want,” Mr. Stark said easily. 

Peter studiously avoided his gaze, shoving the guilt down so he didn’t have to think about it.

***

Peter was in the dream again.

It was pitch black, and he was trapped somewhere deep and unreachable. 

_May!_ He tried to scream. _Mr. Stark!_

His throat ached, but no sound came out. 

He walked and walked, looking for light or sound or _something, somebody._

But there was nothing—there was never going to be anything—he was going to be stuck here for the rest of eternity—

***

Peter awoke with a gasp, tangled up in his blankets. 

“Peter, would you like me to alert the boss that you are in distress?” FRIDAY asked, serene as ever. 

“No!” He exclaimed hastily. Mr. Stark was raising an energetic five-year-old and recovering from the loss of his arm—the last thing he needed was Peter waking him up in the middle of the night for some stupid dream. 

He rolled over to check his phone, surprised to see that it was barely after midnight. 

_Oh yeah. He’d shot down Mr. Stark’s offer of watching a movie and hid in his room after dessert._

He had a text from Ned asking how Operation Tik Tok was proceeding.

Groaning, he sat up. “Might as well get up for a bit,” he mumbled to himself, pulling the covers back and standing. 

He tiptoed to the door of his room, peeking out into the hallway. Morgan’s room was across from his. Her door was cracked open slightly, and the faint glow of her nightlight spilled into the hall. Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts’ room was at the other end of the hall, the door fully shut. 

Peter had been surprised to find that the house only had three bedrooms. 

“After the craziness of the Tower and the Compound, we really wanted to keep it small. Family only,” Pepper had explained earlier when she’d shown him the bedroom he’d be sleeping in. There was a _Star Wars_ poster and a periodic table chart on the wall, a cozy blue quilt on the bed, and a beautiful view of the lake out the window.

“Oh wow,” Peter had said, feeling guilty for invading their space. “Thanks for letting me stay this weekend. It’s really nice of you guys.”

Pepper had given him an odd look but hadn’t said anything else. 

Now, as he made his way down the dark hallway, he wished for the millionth time that things weren’t so different. He loved Morgan and it was awesome to see Mr. Stark being a dad, but he just...wasn’t sure where he fit anymore. 

He’d been comfortable with one version of Tony—his sarcastic mentor who showed his affection through lab nights and suit upgrades. He hadn’t been prepared for a _different_ Tony, with concerned text messages and gray hair and a warm, tired smile every time he looked at Peter. 

He’d noticed earlier that the third step creaked, so he lightly hopped over it on his way down to the kitchen. Maybe he’d get a glass of water and put on a movie until he fell asleep. 

He paused these plans, however, when he noticed that the front door to the house was open. The screen door was shut, but it seemed odd that Tony Stark, who had a lot of enemies and a daughter and wife he loved very much, would leave the front door to his house unlocked.

Peter didn’t feel the familiar prickle of danger at the back of his neck, but he approached the door carefully and silently anyway. 

He let out a sigh of relief when he peeked out the nearby window and saw Tony sitting on the porch, his face illuminated slightly by his StarkPad. 

He thought about Ned’s text message. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity for him to do the challenge? It would definitely lead to Mr. Stark teasing him, which would put them back on familiar ground again. 

He grinned, setting his cup of water aside. 

He felt nervous, but at least this time he knew for sure what the outcome would be. Maybe some part of him had known, deep down, that May would be happy to hold him after losing him for five years. 

He wiped his palms on his pajama pants and padded to the front door, making sure to make plenty of noise so that Mr. Stark wouldn’t blast him with a gauntlet. 

Mr. Stark looked up from his StarkPad when Peter opened the screen door. He had that same gentle, unfamiliar smile on his face when he saw Peter standing there in an old sweatshirt and his Hello Kitty pajama pants. 

“Hey, Pete,” he said. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Just got up to get a drink of water,” Peter shrugged, awkwardly tucking his hands in his sweatshirt pocket. 

“You’re barefoot—come sit before your feet get cold.”

Peter blinked—the Mr. Stark of a few months ago (well, really five years ago, but it was only a few months for Peter) would’ve never made such a minute observation about Peter’s wellbeing. 

Still, this was his chance—Mr. Stark had laid the groundwork perfectly. All Peter had to do was crawl onto his lap, and then Mr. Stark would push him off, and they’d joke about it, and…

Peter suddenly found that he didn’t really feel like joking right now. He kept thinking about the darkness, about the bone-deep fear he’d felt as he’d sat in the Med Bay and waited to hear if Mr. Stark was going to live after the battle. 

But a bet was a bet, and there wasn’t going to be a better time than right now to do this. 

Peter took a deep breath, and, being careful of Mr. Stark’s missing arm, crawled straight into his mentor’s arms. 

***

Mr. Stark inhaled sharply when Peter burrowed onto his lap, but the laughter and the gentle push he’d been expecting never came. Instead, he was being moved and shifted slightly, but—closer to Mr. Stark. Not further away. 

“Hi, Pete,” Mr. Stark said, his voice low and soothing. 

Peter’s head was pressed somewhere between Mr. Stark’s shoulder and his chest. He could hear the calm, even thump of Mr. Stark’s heart, and unexpected tears pricked at his eyelids. 

“You okay, bud?” Mr. Stark asked, and to Peter’s shock, he began to rock them slightly from side to side. 

“Yeah, I’m—I’m fine,” Peter laughed, but to his horror, a tear slipped down his cheek. 

Mr. Stark turned his neck at what must have been an uncomfortable angle to look at Peter’s face. “Oh, Underoos,” he said. “I’d offer you a hand to wipe those tears away, but I’m afraid I’m a limb short right now.”

For some reason, that just made Peter cry more. Mr. Stark had lost an arm and almost died, just to bring Peter back from the void, and here he was, crying like a baby just because he’d missed a few years.

He swiped quickly at his cheeks. “It’s okay,” he sniffed. “I’m fine, I don’t know why—”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s a lot, I know.”

Peter frowned. “You sound like you’ve been talking to Aunt May.”

Mr. Stark’s chest rumbled slightly with a laugh. “Of course I’ve been talking to May.”

Peter paused at that. “Wait...really? You guys talk about me?”

Mr. Stark looked down at him strangely. “Of course we talk about you, Pete. You came back from the dead two months ago, and you’ve been avoiding talking about anything emotional since then. We’ve been worried about you.”

Peter tangled his fingers nervously in the string of his sweatshirt hood. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a building and he was about to jump, hoping that he had enough web fluid left to catch himself. 

He took a deep breath. “Mr. Stark? Why are you worried about me?” He asked, even though some small part of him already knew the answer.

Mr. Stark’s expression was so gentle and open that Peter almost wanted to look away. “Because you’re my kid. And I love you.”

He said it so simply, as if it was an irrefutable truth. 

“Okay, uh, maybe you transported me to the wrong universe on accident when you reversed the blip,” Peter mused, biting his lip.

Mr. Stark laughed, but his eyes were sad. “I tried to keep you at arm’s length, Pete. My father was horrible, which I’m sure you know already. I thought I didn’t have any business getting close to you. But then you were gone, and—”

Peter was shocked to see that Mr. Stark’s eyes looked slightly misty.

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark, you don’t have to—”

Mr. Stark shook his head. “I should’ve done this while you were alive,” he said, resuming the slight rocking pattern. “When you were gone, I regretted everything. It was so stupid and so preventable, and you died not knowing—”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter mumbled. “I love you too.” He flung his arms around Mr. Stark’s neck, burying his face so that he could listen to Mr. Stark’s heartbeat and inhale the familiar scent of metal and coffee. 

“Please, kid, you gotta start calling me Tony. We’ve both almost died at this point, what more is it going to take?”

Peter shrugged. 

“Look, Pete. I know it’s going to take time to get comfortable with all of this. It must be crazy to suddenly wake up and see everyone five years older and find out you have a little sister. You can take all the time you need to adjust, but—please don’t hide away in your room, okay? Whatever is going on in that big head of yours, I want to hear it.”

Peter drew back, blinking in confusion. He disentangled himself and moved to sit next to Mr. Stark, aware that he was probably crushing the man’s legs. 

“My room? A little sister?”

Mr. Stark looked vaguely exasperated. “Peter. I know we’re not related by blood, but you’re my kid in every other way. Ergo, Morgan is your sister. And yes—what did you think—that we just put you up in a random guest room? One that just so happens to be decorated with _Star Wars_ and science stuff?”

“Oh, uh...yes.”

Mr. Stark rolled his eyes. “That’s been your room ever since we moved in here five years ago. Some people told me it was maybe a little unhealthy, decorating a room for my kid who was gone, but…” His voice trailed off. “I gave you the best view of the lake, _bambino_ ,” he said quietly. 

And really, that said it all. 

“Oh,” Peter said. He leaned into Mr. Stark’s side, suddenly feeling sleepy. 

“Yeah,” Mr. Stark returned. Peter dozed off there, listening to the crickets chirp and the wind rustle in the trees. For the first time since the blip, he felt safe.

***

Peter texted Ned the next morning. 

_PP: Yeah, I tried Operation Tik Tok last night but...it didn’t really work out like I was expecting._

_NL: Ha! I knew it!! He reacted the same way as May, didn’t he?_

_PP: ...No_

_PP: Okay, maybe. :P_

_PP: Anyway, a bet is a bet, so now I gotta do something else to make it up._

_NL: Eh, don’t worry about it._

_PP: Hey, do you think my super-healing would be able to handle me eating a Tide pod?_

_NL: PETER NO!!!!_

Peter laughed and leaned back against his headboard, looking out at the lake. He could see Pepper and Morgan in the garden, picking tomatoes off the vine for lunch. 

“Hey, FRI?” He called. 

“Yes, Peter?” The AI replied. 

“Save that footage from last night, okay?”

“Of course, Peter.”

As Peter watched, Tony wandered out into the garden. He picked Morgan up and swung her around. Peter could hear the faint music of her laughter through his bedroom window. 

He grinned and stood. It was time to go outside and join them. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
